


Enthusiastic Consent

by metrophobic



Series: Yaoi Hands [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Canon Era, Dating But Fighting, Fluff and Humor, Inappropriate Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:54:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metrophobic/pseuds/metrophobic
Summary: P.C. Principal teaches the school's #1 power couple an important lesson about respecting limits.(Originally written for the February drabble bomb, now here in one-shot form.)





	Enthusiastic Consent

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Since I have a little series of these stupid stories in the works, I figured for posterity it would be better to repost this old drabble as its own fic. If you haven't read it before, well, enjoy. There's gonna be more garbage where this came from.
> 
> This was the first time I've ever written them as canon-age, too. I hope you find them as disgustingly adorable as I do.

“I don’t owe you  _shit!_ ”

“Yes you  _do_ , buttlicker!”

“No I  _don’t!_ ”

“Yes,” and it was Tweek who threw the first punch, “you  _do!_ ” A crowd was forming around them, rather quickly, which was pretty much the norm at school whenever two scrappy kids decided to throw down in the middle of the hallway. Craig snarled and shoved him back.

“You can just  _build it again!_ Stop acting like a fucking  _baby!_ ”

“ _No!_ ” Tweek screeched, flying at him. This time Craig kicked him in the shin,  _hard_ , and Tweek’s fist landed on his jaw. “I spent  _thirteen hours_ on that thing!” He scrabbled for Craig’s jacket collar and gripped it tight. “Say you’re  _sorry!_ ”

“If you— god  _damn it!_ ” Craig shoved the other boy so hard he stumbled back a few paces, and he took the opportunity to leap at him, which successfully knocked Tweek to the ground. “If you didn’t leave so much crap all over your room, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“ _Nrghh!_ This is  _your_ fault! Stop trying to deflect the blame onto  _me!_ ” Tweek launched himself forward again, and Craig swore loudly when a set of knuckles slammed into his eye. That was definitely going to leave a bruise. Tweek was way better at throwing punches than he was. He learned that the hard way in shop class last year.

“Clean your fucking  _room_ , ya dumb— pig!” was all Craig could think to hurl back. Tweek grabbed him by the skull and tried to knee him in the face. Craig quickly twisted away and, in retaliation, socked his stupid batshit crazy boyfriend in the chest. Tweek coughed a couple of times and Craig felt a sudden flash of guilt, but then:

“Fuck you! I’m dumping your ass! How’s  _that_ for clean!?”

Craig let out a furious huff of breath through his nose. “I’m dumping your ass  _first!_ ”

“No, I’m dumping  _you_ first!” Tweek clambered to his feet to rush at him again, but Craig grabbed a fistful of his hair, and swung at him with the opposite hand.

“Boys.  _Boys!_ Stop screwin’ around!” The ring of spectators around them all groaned in unison—boys  _and_ girls and even some cissies, too—as they were separated. Mr. Mackey kept a firm grip on Tweek’s disheveled shirt and Mr. Adler, Craig’s arm. Both of the quarreling lovebirds scowled at one another, and Craig lifted his finger.

“ _Agh!_ ” Tweek jerked in place and screamed back: “Fuck you  _too!_ ”

“Principal’s office  _now_ , young man, m’kay? And you too, Tweek!”

“He started it,” said Craig once they were seated side-by-side in the principal’s office. He was holding an ice pack against his sore eye, and Tweek, with his arms crossed, pointedly refused to look at him.

“No,  _he_ started it!”

“Okay, boys,” P.C. Principal said, almost in time with the reps he was pulling one-handed, dumbbell held solid in his grip. “So it looks like the three of us need to have a talk, you were beating up on each other in the hallway, correct?”

“ _He_ tried to beat up  _me!_ ” Craig defended hotly.

“Because  _he_ was being a fucking  _asshole!_ ”

“All right, calm down,” P.C. Principal interjected. “We don’t want to shame your relationship, this is a very inclusive school and we want to be respectful of everyone’s needs, even if your kink is not my kink.”

“ _Waugh!_ Our  _what?_ ”

“Now first of all, I need to make sure you boys understand the concept of ‘negotiation’. When you negotiate, you make sure that the other party is comfortable with what you plan to do to their body. That way, no one’s consent is violated.  _Comprendez-vous?_ ”

“Oh for  _fuck's sake,_ ” Craig groaned. Not this fucking bullshit again. “You already  _taught_ us this stuff!”

“No, no.” P.C. set down the dumbbell and picked up one of his hand weights. While he squeezed it between those thick fingers, he continued: “We did go over affirmative consent in this office earlier in the year, but now your relationship has progressed so we  _do_ need to move on to more appropriate concepts. Now did you or did you not engage in PDA in the hallway?”

“ _No!_ ” Tweek yelped at him.

“We hold hands sometimes,” Craig muttered, but he still refused to look over at Tweek, because he  _dumped him_ in front of  _everyone_ and so therefore he didn’t deserve the time of day anymore. Even if that made Craig’s chest hurt, comparable to the throbbing in his eye that was probably going to swell shut before the day was over.

“All right, it seems like you’re not on the same page when it comes to practicing kink, and that  _can_ cause psychological damage in a relationship if both parties aren’t aware of each other’s limits. First of all, we’re gonna explain the difference between soft limits and hard limits. Do you have a safe word?”

“A  _what?_ ” It was Craig’s turn to be confused.

“A safe word is a word that serves as a prearranged and unambiguous signal to end an activity, such as between a dominant and submissive sexual couple. It is entirely irrelevant in the context of a sexual situation so therefore when the safe word is uttered, the scene will end and no one’s consent is violated.”

Craig had absolutely no clue what the Hell their principal just said. Neither did Tweek, apparently, because they both sat there in tense silence, only occasionally broken by one of Tweek’s weird twitchy noises. He hated those stupid noises. They were  _not_ cute and he hated Tweek, too.

P.C. continued on. “A soft limit refers to something that a party may hesitate about or place strict conditions on, but for which they may still give informed consent. An example of a soft limit would be face slapping. Not everyone enjoys being slapped across the face, but maybe in the heat of the moment, your lover might be into it. They’ll express their enjoyment of said action, and that’s what we call enthusiastic consent.”

“I didn’t slap him,” Craig pointed out. “That’s how girls fight.”

“This is just an example, I’m not trying to kink shame anyone. Now, let’s say that Tweek decided to slap you across the face in a moment of passion, and you enjoyed it. This is where enthusiastic consent comes in. You would encourage him by saying something like, ‘thank you master, may I please have another?’ Let’s practice that.”

What the fuck. “No.”

“Do you want to be suspended!? This is important! We can’t have kinksters running around our school violating everyone’s consent!”

“God damn it,” said Craig. He drew in a deep breath, and ground out without any emotion whatsoever: “Thank you master, may I please have another.”

“No you may  _not!_ ” Tweek shouted back at him.

“Yes, very good, Tweek. I can tell that you are familiar with your role as a dominant. Now let’s apply the proper use of a safe word. Frankly I’m rather concerned with the fact that you practice kink and do not have a safe word, so we’re gonna come up with one right now. Think of a random word that you don’t foresee ever being used in a sexual context.”

More awkward silence stretched between them. Craig felt his hand—the one not currently nursing his eye (godfucking _damnit_ Tweek you  _fucking_ piece of shit)—ball into a fist. He really just wanted to go the fuck home. Wasn’t this the part where P.C. Principal would slip them each a hundred dollar bill and wish them well? None of this bullshit even made any sense. Adults were so fucking  _weird._

Tweek made a little squeaking sound. “Truck?” he blurted out.

“Yes, ‘truck’ is a good example of a word that isn’t used in a sexual situation, you are correct. Now, say you slapped Craig across the face and he decided that he didn’t like that, even if it was previously negotiated that he might enjoy being degraded under the right circumstances. You would then invoke the safe word. Let’s try it out.”

“God damn it,” Craig said again. “No. This is gay.”

“ _Did you just use a bigoted slur against same-sex attracted persons!?_ ” P.C. suddenly raised his voice. “That’s a week’s detention!”

“But I  _am gay!_ ” Craig hollered back. “I’m  _allowed_ to use it! I’m taking it back, like you taught us  _last_ week!” That was after he and Clyde were pulled in after trading insults back and forth, and Clyde decided to call him a ‘gay little pussy’, then insisted it was because Craig called him a ‘fag’ first.

“You’re right, you’re right,” P.C. had calmed himself again. “We don’t want to limit our LGBT-plus students in their ability to freely express themselves, so if you practice the safe word like you were requested, I  _will_ annul the detention I just assigned you.”

This was really, really weird. Craig still had absolutely no clue what was going on, but he really had no desire to be slapped either way, by Tweek or anyone else, so he muttered, “truck.”

“Can we go home now?” Tweek asked, practically vibrating in place.

“Not yet, we still have to learn about hard limits,” said P.C. Principal. “Now, Tweek, say you would really like to fist your boyfriend, but Craig just isn’t into getting a hand shoved up his asshole, regardless of the circumstances. How do you think that would be expressed?”

 

* * *

 

“Well,” Craig said after they left the office, “that was weird.” He neatly folded up the $100 bill their principal had handed each of them and shoved it into his coat pocket.

“ _Ngh!_ I-I’ll say.” Tweek still wasn’t looking at him, his cheeks bright pink. It was actually kind of— no, it wasn’t. It _wasn’t_ adorable. He hated Tweek. Stupid fucking asshole and his pigsty room, blaming  _Craig_ for tripping over one of his model airplanes and breaking his stupid LEGO robot. Who the fuck cared that Craig wasn’t paying attention to where he was going? Tweek shouldn’t have left all his stupid shit lying around.

This was all  _his_ fault.

Craig started to leave.

“Wait,  _agh_ ,  _Craig!_ ”

“What.”

Tweek tugged at the buttons on his shirt. “I think we have stuff at my house.  _Ngh!_ For your eye.”

“Okay,” Craig replied. “But you broke up, so I don’t wanna come over to your house anymore.”

“You were a jerk!” Tweek retorted. “ _Nnnnn—_ I spent  _forever_ trying to get my robot to look right, and you destroyed it in a matter of seconds! You  _know_  how long that shit takes!”

He was right, of course. He usually managed to be right. Craig fucking hated that, almost as much as he hated him. “Well,” he said, and was unable to come up with anything. “You… you broke up. So, bye.”

“ _Rrrrrgh!_ Jesus  _Christ,_ you’re so fucking stupid—! Fine, I won’t break up! But you gotta help me redo it, man! Right  _now!_ ”

“All right, Tweek,” Craig said definitively, like he was the one in control of this situation. He cautiously reached out for his hand. Since they were boyfriends again, and everything, so it was the right thing to do.

“Every last LEGO!” Tweek huffed at him. “ _Every_ last one!”

“Every last one,” Craig repeated. “Okay. But I’m cleaning your room first. That place is a shithole.”

“ _Nnh!_  Fine!” Tweek finally took hold of his hand, and squeezed it. It gave Craig that weird annoying thing that happened sometimes, where his stomach and chest felt like they were full of dandelions or hamsters or something. Why didn’t their incompetent principal ever educate them on  _that_ , because he still couldn’t figure out the answer, and there was no way in Hell some stupid word like  _truck_  would be enough to make it go away.

He didn’t let go the entire time, not until they were in Tweek’s bathroom, and only so Tweek could get out the first aid kit.


End file.
